


Sitting Outside

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [17]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Danse has resisted giving into anything with Nora out of fear. It takes a loudmouthed ghoul to make him admit his feelings and force Danse to decide what he really wants.





	Sitting Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 17: Masturbation

 

Danse wrapped his hand around his cock, his eyes shut against Nora’s moaning.

“Harder. Yes, right there.” Her breathy pleas seared into Danse, desperate and perfect.

How many nights had Danse thought about her? Considered how she’d look if he finally told her what he thought about her? Finally admitted what he wanted? He could strip her down, spread her out, taste her.

“So fucking pretty, sunshine.” The ghoul’s voice drifted through the thin shack walls, that rasping voice he hated, the one Nora clung to.

Instead of Danse, her friend, the man who followed her everywhere, she would meet up with Hancock for this every few weeks. They’d find an out of the way place where they could hide out in privacy, with only Danse there to know.

Not that she realized he could hear, that he did this every damned time. The guilt had mostly faded away by the second time he’d done it, when he sat outside the shack, standing watch.

Those moans had made him hard, something he’d tried to ignore. However, by the second round between Nora and Hancock, when her voice had started to go hoarse, and the creaking of mattress springs couldn’t be ignored. Danse had undone the fastens at his crotch, wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked himself until he’d spilled on the porch, listening to Hancock screw the woman Danse loved.

“Your cunt is so wet.” Jet laced Hancock’s voice, slurring the words. “I swear, people would kill to get inside you.”

“More. God, Hancock, more.”

“Love it when you beg. A voice made for begging. Louder, sunshine, louder.”

Louder? Danse’s brows drew together, but Nora obeyed. Her moans, her begging, the frantic slapping of skin, it barreled through the walls.

Danse stroked his cock faster, imagining how it would feel to thrust into her, to have her moan his name instead of the ghoul’s. He let his head fall back against the wall of the shack, the sounds loud and as painful as they were enticing.

He edged himself, stopping whenever he got close, not wanting to miss a moment of it just because he’d come too fast. He wasn’t some child, some pre-teen boy fumbling through sex.

The cry on Nora’s lips said she’d finished. The silence afterward said she’d drifted off. They often took breaks between the sessions, a half an hour, maybe a whole hour where silence would let the shame in him build.

Still, he liked to wait. Liked to hold off his own end. Hancock must have taken chems to bounce back the way he did, but Danse was a once and done for the night man, and he liked to wait. He liked to come when Nora did for the last time, so he could rest after that, sleeping in a shack next door, pretending he was waiting on her.

Danse left his eyes closed, his hand still stroking his cock, not enough to tempt him to come but enough to let the lust in him simmer.

“Well there, brother.”

Danse’s back went straight, his hand flattening over his cock as if he could hide it.

Hancock stood in front of him, a cigarette clamped between his lips curved into a grin. “Having a nice time?”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

What a foolish thing to say. Of course, it was exactly what it looked like. What else could explain what Hancock walked up on? Would he tell Nora now?

Nora could tell Maxson, could ruin Danse’s entire reputation.

Hancock lifted a hand. “Settle down, tin can. I can see your brain turning fast enough to power fucking Diamond City with that hamster wheel.”

“You aren’t going to say anything?”

Hancock’s thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “What a man does to his own cock ain’t really anyone else’s business.”

“And yet you’re out here talking to me about it.”

“True enough. Still, I did make sure you got yourself a little show, didn’t I?”

“Why would you do that?”

Hancock pulled a chair over beside Danse and plopped into it. His legs spread wide, the edges of his pants still open and hanging low enough to almost show his cock. “Nora ain't a one man sort of girl, and fuck knows neither am I. You? You seem like fun.”

Danse frowned. He went to ask but went silent when Hancock lifted his hand.

“I can read people pretty well, figure out what they want. Comes from living in Goodneighbor, I think. One person walks in, and I know their vice is chems, gambling for another. One man walks in and I know he’s the type to want to get strapped down and paddled, and a girl strolls in, and fuck knows she’s someone who knows her way around a strap-on. I know what people want because I’m pretty good at giving to ‘em, so I know what you want.”

“And what is that?”

Hancock’s head tilted, black eyes unreadable. “Her. You want Nora. Saw it the second you walked into my town on her heels. You want to fucking devour her, to lick her head to toe, to get inside her any way you can and to get her inside you, too. That shit, that sort of devotion or obsession or whatever the fuck it is, that shit ain’t something I see too often.”

Danse released a huff, something between denial and admittance, before turning his face away.

Hancock kept going like he had all night. “So yeah, wasn’t that hard to figure you’d be out here giving yourself a hand. Started making sure she was louder. Fuck, I think she knows it, too. Her eyes’ll dart off toward where you sit like she feels it, too, like she knows you’re right there. Maybe you two will get shit figure out, maybe you won’t. Who the fuck knows.”

Danse grit his teeth at the inspection. He didn’t care for being exposed in front of the ghoul, and he didn’t mean his cock still hanging out. “So again, I ask, what do you want.”

“Just figured I’d offer you a little present. Call it an olive branch.” Hancock lifted his hand toward Danse.

“What are you talking about?”

Hancock drew his hand into a fist other than two of his fingers he left out. “You ain’t stupid. How far into Nora do you think I had these fingers? Figured you’d like a taste.”

Danse’s teeth whistled in through his teeth as he sucked in a breath. The idea was perverse, wrong, twisted-

He’d grasped Hancock’s wrist before he could think about it. He drew his hand closer, then slid the ghoul’s fingers into his mouth, last his lips. His tongue wrapped around them, caressing them.

Nora. Despite never having done this with her, he damned well recognized the taste of a woman. His cock had wilted from the conversation but perked back up as he cleaned Nora’s juices from Hancock’s fingers. He traced every ridge of the burn covered appendages like a junky looking for just a little more.

Hancock chuckled, a dark sound Danse had heard through the wall before. “Ain’t as good as from the source, but you don’t seem willing to go talk to her, not yet. Maybe someday, if you ever get the stick out of your ass, you’ll join in. Between the two of us, we could have a hell of a lot of fun with her, and fuck knows she’d enjoy it.”

Danse sucked at his fingers like he could draw more of Nora’s taste, even as the bitter edge of radiation covered it, nothing but the skin of the ghoul left. Still, he found himself reluctant to let go.

While the idea of having Nora, of even sharing her, excited him, Danse couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit to her what he felt, what he wanted. What if Hancock was wrong? What if it ruined it all? What if she rejected him?

He’d rather sit outside a shack in the dark than see her walk away, never to come back.

Hancock’s laugh that time was less friendly. “Stubborn asshole.” He pulled his fingers from Danse’s lips, even as reluctant as Danse was to release them. “There’s another place you can get her taste, you know.”

Danse’s gaze moved toward the door. No. There was no way.

“Nah, brother, not there.” Hancock nodded down toward his pants, still undone. “I fucked her, soldier boy. Pretty sure you know exactly what I mean. Didn’t wipe off, didn’t clean up.”

“You’re expecting me to. . .” Danse couldn’t bring himself to say the words. It wasn’t that he’d never engaged in that with other soldiers. Nights in the Brotherhood were long, and while they frowned on men settling down together due to their desire for children, they looked the other way for tension release.

Hancock shrugged, drawing in a drag from the cigarette before blowing it out into the darkness. “Ain’t expecting a thing. Was just offering. Call it my good deed of the day.”

Danse wanted to punch the ghoul. He wanted to knock out a tooth for the disgusting idea. Licking his fingers had been bad enough but if he actually thought he’d drop to his knees and lick the ghoul’s dick-

Danse’s cock jerked at the idea, something that startled him more than anything. It was the instinctual reaction that frightened him, the idea that he wanted something his brain told him was wrong and filthy.

Only, the more he thought about burying his nose in the crotch of the ghoul, breathing in Nora’s scent, licking whatever was on him off and swallowing it down, the more he wanted it.

“No one needs to know. I ain’t one to kiss and tell.” Hancock didn’t move, and it was the only thing that kept Danse still. Had Hancock grabbed at him, he’d have bolted.

Danse took a deep breath before shifting to his knees before the ghoul. He pulled at Hancock’s pants, who lifted his ass to help him work them down to his ankles. The ghoul’s skinny legs came into view, but Danse wasn’t ogling.

He didn’t care what Hancock looked like. This wasn’t about Hancock at all. It was about the woman sleeping in the shack, the one Danse dreamed about, the one he wanted but couldn’t have.

The pain in his chest that came every time he thought about it spread, but Danse pulled in a steady breath.

“Look, tin can, you ain’t gotta-”

Danse shut Hancock up by leaning in and burying his nose in the ghoul’s crotch. He sniffed, drawing in a breath so deep and slow his head went fuzzy. His cheek pressed against Hancock’s wet cock, the scent of Nora, tinged with the acidic smell of Hancock drew a groan from Danse.

He pulled back, then dragged his tongue along Hancock’s length, whose cock hadn’t quite returned to life though it had started to.

Hancock’s hand twitched like he wanted to reach out and grasp Danse’s hair. Instead, he twisted his hand and grasped the chair. Smart choice. Had he touched Danse at all, it would have broken the spell.

Danse didn’t use his hands, left them on his own thighs as he moved his tongue and lips over Hancock cock. He licked Nora from the ghoul’s cock, from his groin, from his balls. He cleaned every inch until he’d swallowed down all of Nora he could, and even then, he kept searching.

“Go on, brother, finish what you were out here doing.” Hancock had dropped his head back, looking like Danse did whenever he sat out there.

Danse had drifted too far into the high from his drug of choice: obsession with Nora. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked as he slid Hancock’s cock into his mouth. He didn’t suck, didn’t work at pleasuring Hancock. Instead, he kept his eyes closed and tried to find any lasting spec of Nora left. He imagined Hancock taking her, imagined the way she’d tighten around his cock, the way she’d whine and whimper and beg.

A rough groan said Hancock enjoyed the attention, the same groan that so often came through those walls, the groan that sent Danse over that edge.

He spilled on to the porch, his shoulders tense, his own groan muffled by Hancock’s dick.

A breeze drew forth a shudder even through the brotherhood jumpsuit he wore. Danse frowned, his cheek against Hancock’s thigh, the ghoul’s fingers running through his hair.

What the hell? What had that happened?

Danse fastened the fabric over his crotch after tucking his soft cock in. He pulled back but didn’t stand right away. He needed to threaten Hancock into silence, warn him that if he said a word, he’d do. . . something.

How could he have risked everything like that? The ghoul wasn't known for his integrity. Why would he ever keep a secret like that?

What would the Brotherhood do to Danse if they found out what had happened? He could just picture the way Maxson would scowl, like the best of them had fallen.

When Danse went to open his mouth, a clearing throat pulled his attention to the side.

Nora stood there, her shoulder against the doorway. No reason to wonder if she’d seen, the look on her face said she had.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

She’d tell him to leave. She’d scream at him, then kick him out. He was always on the outside, wasn’t he? Even then, even with her and a pervert, he was still the one who didn’t belong.

He steeled himself for her anger, for her rejected.

Instead, her lips curled up. “So, you think you’ll finally come inside?”

What the hell?

Hancock laughed, his fingers running through Danse’s hair again. “Tin can here is pretty stubborn, sunshine. Told you it’d take more than some moaning to get him to come clean.”

Danse’s cheeks heated at the idea they’d both been in on it, that they’d maneuvered him for-

Wait. They’d planned it? So Nora wanted him? She not only knew how he felt, but she’d wanted him, too?

He rose to his feet and advanced on her, grasping her chin, the only place he felt comfortable to touch her. “You’re not angry?”

She shook her head. “John said it would take more than some temptation to get you to give in. He thought maybe something a bit more forward would work.”

“You planned this?”

Her smile fell. “Are you angry with me?”

Maybe he should be, but then again, he lacked high ground. Instead of answering, he pulled her in for a kiss, the first time tasting her directly. It was everything he’d hoped for and more. “Never.”

That smile returned to her lips before she nodded toward the shack. “Good, because it’s cold out here, and the bed is big enough for three.”

Danse drew a deep breath, nerves and training battling with what he wanted. He released Nora, knowing she wouldn’t push the subject any further, leaving it to Danse to decide.

“Up to you, brother.” Hancock passed him, walking into the shack with Nora, the door open, an invite to Danse.

An invite he’d never had before, an open door he’d never been offered before.

So Danse did what he knew he wanted, what he’d always wanted, what he’d craved. He walked through the door, toward the people offering him something, shutting the cold world out behind him.

  



End file.
